


Extracurricular

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Dark fic, Drunken sex, F/M, Ransom Drysdale - Freeform, dark!, knives out - Freeform, noncon, professor Ransom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27788077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness.This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x ReaderSummary: You go out to unwind from your schoolwork but can’t seem to escape a certain professor’s attention.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Comments: 28
Kudos: 240





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pinched nerve don’t care. I’ve written this as I’m laying on a heating pad and praying for absolution. Hope y’all enjoy because by the time this goes up I’ll be at work and hating life.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
> 
> Please leave some feedback <3

Midterms were finally over. It had been a long two weeks; all nighters, energy drinks, and stress headaches. Now you were ready to forget it all in a single night.

Your dress was a little too short and a little too tight. A pink number with large sequins. It looked straight out of the nineties; an appropriate choice for your girls’ night. A downtown club was hosting a ladies night with a retro theme and you felt like the spice girl you’d once idolized. And a little buzzed.

Lexi had invited you along with her roommates, Cece and Rima, to dance off the dread of your results. Study had been half the battle, it was still to see if it had done you any good. In your Twentieth Century Lit class, you were certain you’d fallen on your face. Figuratively, though you had done so literally your first day. It had set a precedent for your apparent cluelessness.

You followed the girls inside after your hand was stamped and the flashing lights mingled with the thumping music and filled your body. You were enlivened by the bodies already dancing and the voice that underlined the melody. A single pre-drink and you were already feeling tomorrow’s hangover.

You joined the chaos of the dance floor as Lexi searched her purse and came out victorious with a handful of bills. “First rounds on me!” She sang, “How about it girls? You ready for more?”

“Holy shit, Lex,” Cece giggled, “Another night with the sugar daddy?”

“Don’t call him that,” Lexi retorted. 

“Well, what would you call him?” Rima countered. “You fuck him, he gives you money.”

“Shut up before I shut you up!’ Lexi whined.

“Hey, both of you,” you warned and grabbed Lexi’s hand, “And stop waving that around.”

“Oh thank youuuu,” she clung to you, “I’ll have a vodka soda.”

“Wha-- no.”

“Do they have whiteclaw?” Rima asked.

“Ew. don’t,” Cece wrinkled her nose, “I’ll have a vodka too.”

“Fine, vodka cran!” Rima nearly hollered. The girls must have started well before you showed up to their dorm.

You huffed and took the fistful of bills. You sidled through the crowd of pairs and groups writhing and waving to the music. Another drink would make you less aware. 

You stepped up to the bar and found yourself nearly bowled over by another patron as she stumbled away with her drink. You knocked the arm of a man leaned against the bar top and turned to apologize.

“Oop, sorry, I didn’t--” You froze and blinked several times in disbelief. The familiar face grinned in recognition. “Professor Drysdale? What are you--”

“I didn’t know it was ladies night,” he spoke over the music, “Had my last exam and thought I’d unwind but--” He looked around. “I didn’t take you for the club type.”

You squirmed as his eyes strayed from your face and you got closer to the bar. “Well, not every night,” you chuckled. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he raised his hand and waved to the bartender. “Took me a moment, to be honest.”

“Ahh,” you watched the bartender near and he bent to hear your order. You got yourself a gin after your last sour experience with vodka.

You watched the bartender work, unsure of what to say to your unexpected company. His remark stuck in your head. You often sat in his class in your favourite loose cardigan or a sweat with fraying cuffs. Massachusetts was growing colder by the day and only the alcohol and your lack of a damn kept you warm that night.

“So, I guess you’re here with friends,” he said.

“Yeah, just a few of us.” You said as you rubbed your sweaty fingers on the bills. The bartender pushed your drink across the bar but Professor Drysdale was quicker than you as he held out a fifty.

“My treat.” He said.

“Oh no,” you tried to grab his hand but he waved it at the bartender again. “You don’t need to--”

“Come on. Save your money. You college kids need all you can get,” he insisted.

You smiled awkwardly and carefully took two cups in each hand. You lifted them as he watched you. You peeked over at him and found his eyes glued to you.

“Thank you, professor,” you said.

“Ransom,” he corrected you, “I’m not much of a dancer… but I don’t mind the music. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again.”

“Maybe.” You turned and narrowly missed another collision. 

You followed the maze of bodies back to your group and doled out the drink. Your fingers were left sticky with soda and you took a deep gulp of your own. You tried not to think of the odd encounter with your professor. It wasn’t too unusual you spotted the occasional faculty downtown; students often stuck to the campus bar. Even so, you were surprised at his interest. In class, he barely seemed to recall your name, even if you were the only one who raised your hand. Well, maybe he had also indulged a little too much.

You forgot your paranoia as soon as you finished your drink. You set aside the plastic cup and lost yourself in TLCs greatest hit. You’d regret it in the morning when it mattered.

🥂

After the second drink, came the third, the fourth, and fifth that tasted more like a double. The lights blurred in your vision and the music made your head swell delightfully. 

The night had worn on and as a slow R&B tune came on, you weren’t quite sure what to do. Cece had long ago found a guy to hang off and Rima and Lexi were all too happy to start dancing with each other. You hiccupped and contemplated a break against the wall. 

You were startled as you felt a hand on your back and kept from your retreat.

“Need a partner?” Ransom’s voice flooded into your veins like the alcohol; warm and disorienting. 

“Huh, oh, no, it’s--” You giggled bashfully. “That’s fine.”

“Come on,” he pulled you against him, your back to his front, “Wasn’t too long ago I was out here with all the coeds.”

“Professor--”

“Ransom,” he purred in your ear. “I like this song.”

“I don’t think--”

“Don’t think then,” he said sharply as his arm snaked around you and urged you closer. He leaned in and spoke in your ear. “Seeing your ass in that dress makes me wonder why you ever cover it up.”

“Pr--Ransom, please, I--”

“It’s just a dance, sweetie,” he grinded into you and you felt a twitch in his pants. “Just like that.”

He guided your drunken body against his as his fingers danced along the hem of your dress. The music swept you up as you dizzily surrendered to him. Behind the haze, you knew it was wrong, but you knew you were strong enough to resist. And part of you, didn’t believe your professor was groping you.

“Mmm, you’re so sweet,” he groaned, “That’s it,” he rubbed his crotch against you, “Let me feel that ass.”

“Professor,” you breathed as one his hands caressed your thigh, “You shouldn’t--”

“Wish you dressed like this in class.” He slithered, “Nice little short skirt. You can sit in the front row and give me a little peek.”

“Stop,” you hissed as your vision swam and panic rose in your chest, the gin making you unsteady and uncertain, “Please.”

“Please,” he echoed, “I love to hear you beg me, sweetie.”

“I-I-I--” you stuttered stupidly and finally tore away from him. “I have to pee.”

Your ankle bent in your heel and you hurried past him. You nearly fell as you batted away his hand and fled to the restroom. You stopped by the doorway at the edge of the floor and looked back. Ransom watched you with head tilted and a smirk on his lips, unbothered by the drunk horde around him. You turned and quickly shielded yourself with the door.

You took a breath and ambled forward to stare at yourself in the mirror. _Were you that drunk or was your professor really trying to get in your pants?_

🥂

When you returned to the girls, Ransom was gone. You didn’t look around for him much, afraid you might find him. You finally tore Cece away from her partner as Lexi began to lean heavily. You took her under the arm and realised that every one of you were a mess. It would be a parade of fools trying to get home.

You got your jackets from the check and went out into the bitter cold. You shivered as you left Lexi to hang off Rima and you swayed as you hailed a cab. A yellow taxi pulled up and you opened the door as you ushered the rest of the girls in. A hand rested beside yours atop the door.

“Looks like there’s no room for you,” Ransom said and you flinched as you looked at him.

“I can get in the front,” you argued weakly.

“Ride with me.” He raised his hand to call another cab, “You don’t wanna overcrowd the car.”

“No, I can--”

“It’s cold!” Cece pulled the door from your grasp and it slammed, nearly knocking you over. “Driver, Western Building on campus.”

“Wait--” The driver pulled away without pause and you stumbled off the curb.

Ransom caught you and pulled you back up. He wrapped his arm around you as another taxi appeared.

“You’re pretty fucked up, sweetie, I can’t have you riding alone,” he opened the door and bent to usher you inside. You struggled but not much, hauling yourself across the seat as he followed closely. He gave an address you didn’t recognize as he shut the door.

“What-- where--” You touched your forehead as you leaned back against the seat. “Professor--”

“I like how you call me that,” he reached over and rested his hand on your leg, “Don’t worry, sweetie, better you come with me than some creep.”

You grabbed his hand and tried to push it away but it didn’t budge. He squeezed your thigh and got closer. His other arm went around your shoulder and drew you against him.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re tired. Just close your eyes.” He hummed. “I’ll get you back safe.”

You shook your head but your eyelids drooped against your will. The dancing, the gin, the weeks of sleep deprivation piled atop you and dragged you into a blurred stupor. You felt detached from the world as it passed outside the car windows and suddenly a door opened and closed. Your body was moving but not of your own volition. 

Your vision cleared for a moment and you looked up at a large house with immense windows. You blinked and you were inside. You sat for a moment as Ransom moved around and you were lifted up. You were cradled in his arms as he carried up a flight of stairs and through the unfamiliar hallway. You bounced atop a mattress with a jolt.

“Wha--” you quivered and tried to sit up. Your head spun as your lashes fluttered.

You sat dumbly, barely able to hold yourself up on shaky arms as Ransom undressed. You babbled as he revealed his muscled chest and thick arms. He was entirely unlike the first, and only boy, you’d been with. He was a man.

“I’m drunk…” you slurred, “I can’t… you’re my--my--”

“That’s right,” he reached into his jeans pocket, his fly open, “I’m your professor,” he pulled out his phone and neared. He nudged you so that you fell onto your back and pushed your legs apart. You looked up at him as he snapped photos of you. You raised your hand to try to hide yourself. “If anyone were to find out you tried to seduce me, and for a better grade, you’ll be expelled. A star scholar like you, untouchable for any university in the country. Pity.”

“You can’t.” You murmured as you closed your legs and tried to sit up but found it almost impossible. “You…”

“I will and if you try to blow the whistle, I’ll do it first and I’ll be a whole lot more convincing than the girl everyone saw piss drunk tonight.” He sneered, “Now open those legs for me, sweetie.”

You didn’t move. You hugged yourself with your arms as you were caught in a heavy tide. You were terrified, worse; helpless. You listened to the rustle of his clothing and the mattress dipped by your feet. 

His hands began at your ankles and glided up to your knees. He pushed your legs apart as you held them together. You were forced to relent as he pinched you viciously and your muscles quaked. He moved between your legs and rubbed your thighs as your skirt rode up. He pressed two fingers along the crotch of your panties.

“What’s the point of these in a dress like that, huh?” He began to tease you through the fabric, “What’s the matter, sweetie? You scared?” He slowly pulled aside your panties and touched your folds, “Am I your first?”

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You whimpered as he flicked your clit.

“Maybe not your first but definitely the best,” he purred, “Ah, ah, you’re already wet. Kept you waiting all night, didn’t I?”

“Please, I don’t want to--”

“Shhh,” his fingers slipped down to your entrance and he traced it carefully, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you want,” he poked his finger inside of you, “But your body does.” He added another and glided in and out of your easily. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“P-p-pl--” Your voice fizzled as he curled his fingers and pressed the hell of his hand to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back and your eyelids shut. You were lost in a daze of pleasure and confusion. You were trapped but that coil winding inside you didn’t want to escape. The knot of nerves tangling tighter and tighter overpowered your fear and had you bracing the mattress. Your legs bent without a thought and your back arched. Ransom hummed as he guided your body closer to the edge.

Your nails curled into the duvet and your toes clenched. You tried to breathe, the taste of gin still on your tongue, and cried out instead. You shook as you came but it didn’t feel like your body. You felt as if you were floating above as you were used by this man. Your legs went limp and slid straight as you panted wildly and the world was specks of light as you opened your eyes.

“Teacher’s pet, aren’t you?” He taunted. “You always have the answers.”

You focused on Ransom as the room remained a fog behind him. A halo seemed to limn his figure as he drew his hand from your cunt and licked his fingers. He delighted in the taste and planted his hands on the bed and bent over you.

“That smug little smile when you’re right. You’re always right.” He hissed. “I had girls like you in my classes. Always thought they needed a good fuck.”

You touched his chest and pushed pathetically. He chuckled as his nose brushed yours.

“You know, when you bend over to get a pen from your bag, I can see straight down your shirt,” he winked, “It makes me wanna bend you over myself. You know how hard it is to teach when you’ve got me all riled up?”

“I didn’t-- Never…” you murmured, your head lolling as you found it hard to follow his words, hard to keep from drifting away entirely.

“I was going to wait until the break… Tonight was unexpected but not unwanted,” he uttered as he reached between your bodies. He dragged his tip along your folds. “You should know what you do to me.”

He stopped at your entrance and slowly pushed inside. Your mouth formed an O and he groaned with each inch. His arm came back up and hooked under your shoulder as he sank to his limit. You moaned at how full you were. Your walls hugged him and you grasped his shoulder as you tried to pull away from him. 

He grabbed your jaw and held your head straight as he glared down at you and jerked his hips.

“That’s all you, sweetie,” he muttered, “Does it hurt you like it hurts me?”

He began to thrust and your legs bent around him as you tried to ease the pain. Since your regrettable high school sweetheart, you hadn’t done anything more than some foreplay and that had been shameful, if not forgettable. You closed your eyes, your head swirled and your body bounced against the bed as the darkness embraced you.

When you opened your eyes next, your head hung to the side as Ransom held himself over you, arms straight as he rutted. His gaze clung to the joining of your bodies and the slick noise of it. His hair dangled down from his head as he watched himself fuck you, slamming harder and faster each time as if driven by the sight.

You winced and let out a moan. It hurt, delightfully so, but in the back of your alcohol-laced mind, you knew it was wrong.

He lowered himself slowly, bending to take your nipple in his mouth and suckle as he continued to rock against you. His thrusts grew sharper as his groans sent a rumble through your chest. Your thighs tingled and your core thrummed as you were overcome by your drunken ecstasy.

Your voice filled the room as you came again and you didn’t realise it was yours. Ransom drew back and sat up as he lifted your pelvis, crashing into you as hard as he could as he bared his teeth. His eyes were smoky as he grunted and his motion turned frantic.

“I’m gonna- ahhh,” he took several long thrusts as he flooded you with his orgasm. 

He kept going until the sensation made him spasm and he hung his head. He reached down to spread your cunt and admired it as he slowly slid out. As his cum leaked from you, he scooped it up with his fingers and pushed it back in, spreading the rest along your folds.

“Shit,” he said as he grazed your thighs with his nails, your eyes closed and consciousness fading with his voice, “Such a good girl…”

🥂

You felt as if you were buried in sand when you woke up. The world was too bright and yet too dull. The night before was blank, a void, and your surroundings were a greater mystery. The framed manuscripts, the antique side table with a twisted vase atop it, the pristine white walls. You groaned as every move made your head throb.

You rolled onto your back and gurgled. Your stomach stirred and you struggled to keep it from erupting. You turned your head slowly as your hand felt along the arm beside you. Ransom Drysdale, your Lit professor, watched you as you stared back confused. His bare torso made your cheeks burn and the dress bunched up around your waist added to your embarrassment. _How had this happened?_

“What-- Professor--”

“If I spank you, would you scream that for me? ‘Professor’?” He mocked.

“I don’t--” You sat up and it sent a strike of pain down the back of your skill, “What happened? How--”

“Do you want to see the pictures?” He sat up and his hand tickled along your back. “I think you might be able to guess without them.”

You blinked at him and drew away from his touch. You turned your legs over the side of the bed and took a breath before you stood. You pulled your dress up over your arms and tugged the skirt back down as you searched for your panties.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked.

“I have to get… back to campus,” you gripped your head. “Where’s my purse?”

“Relax,” he cooed, “I’ll drive you back…” You heard him stand and turned as he approached you, naked. “But I think that we should get cleaned up first.”

“I--We--”

“A nice hot shower,” he licked his lips and leaned in, “Or do you like walking around with me all down your leg?”

You reeled and your stomach churned. You covered your mouth and shoved him away. You ran for the small door on the other side of the room and thankfully, found a toilet within. You wretched into the bowl until your body ached. You sensed his shadow behind you.

“You just make sure you wash your mouth out, sweetie,” he stepped past you and cranked the shower on, “I didn’t get a chance to play with that yet.”


	2. Teacher's Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness, oral, some uses of ‘daddy’.
> 
> This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
> 
> Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader
> 
> Summary: Your night out proves to have lasting effects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Well, another spontaneous sequel. Did you ask for it? Well, you know my username. A brief blip on the radar as I work on my king!Loki but you know what, we need some dirty Ransom.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
> 
> Please leave some feedback and I might continue this as a full series!<3

You scooped up the water desperately into your mouth, rinsing away the taste of bile as you leaned heavily on the porcelain sink. You felt hands on you and tried to shake them away as you groaned, your head pulsing as blurred halos of light seared your vision.

_You’d fucked your professor. Worse, you couldn’t even remember it._

Not what happened after the club or how you’d come to wake up in his bed. You only remembered the distant haze of music and sour alcohol.

“Get away from me,” you tried to shrug him off as you twisted the faucet. “Stop!”

Ransom grabbed your arms and pushed them down to your sides. He squeezed them harshly and a large hand flew up to your chin. He made you look at yourself in the mirror, your make up smeared and your face puffy. His bare shoulders were visible around you and his blue eyes pierced you.

“Baby girl, look at you.” He ran his thumb over your lower lip, “You’re a mess… that’s gonna be a long walk of shame if you don’t start behaving.” He dropped his hand to your shoulder and slid the strap down your arm. He grasped the front of your dress and tugged it back down, groping your tit as it fell out. “Now, sweetie, you can stop being a brat and get washed up or I’ll toss you out the front door and you can walk back to campus with my cum still sticky on your cunt.”

You gasped at his vulgarity and he chuckled as your lips parted in disgust. You felt a prodding and he wiggled his hips.

“What’s it gonna be?” He gripped the top of your rumpled dress.

You closed your mouth and held back your revulsion. You grabbed the sides of your dress and shimmied out of the ridiculous sequined sheath. Ransom let go as the fabric fluttered to your ankle and you crossed your arms as you turned to stare at the frosted glass of the show. His hand tickled your ass and he chuckled.

“Look at that face,” he mocked as you pouted, “You weren’t such a bitch last night.”

He slapped your ass and slid open the shower door. He nodded inside and waited for you to step past him. You did so reluctantly and he followed, closing you in. The stall was hug, much bigger than that shared in your dorm of five. He moved you in front of him and reached past you to crank the faucet to life. You were hit by a sudden flow of cold water and the stream slowly warmed against the goosebumps across your flesh.

Ransom’s hand trailed down your arms and slipped around your waist. He traced the curves of your body and drew himself against you. The water dripped between your bodies and he purred as his fingers edged along your vee.

“Turn around, sweetie,” he purred.

You were rigid and shook your head. You couldn’t bear to look at him. You couldn’t do it. You were already humiliated. And it was too late to drop his course. Too late to hide in shame and sign up for a summer semester.

“You’re starting to piss me off,” he pinched your thigh, “Now turn the fuck around.”

Your foot slid on the tile as you did as he said. You grabbed onto his arm to keep from falling and he laughed at your struggle. His eyes quickly descended your body and you kept from looking below his shoulders. Even if you didn’t peek, you knew he was in better shape than most of your peers. The cable knit sweaters he wore had kept it a secret though his broad shoulders had never appeared schlubby.

He leaned closer and whispered in your ear as he pulled you close. “Get on your knees.”

You blinked and shook your head. His hand rested on your shoulders as he straightened up to look you in the face.

“You made a mess of me last night so you gotta clean it up, sweetie,” he pushed on your shoulders. “Now,” he tapped your lips with his finger, “I don’t want to hear that pretty little mouth, I only want to feel it.”

He smirked and you shook away the trickle of water that spilled over your face. He dropped his hand down to his dick and his arm moved as he stroked himself. 

“Come on.” He gripped the back of your neck, “A good girl like you is always so eager to please her professor.”

He forced you down, your toes slipping dangerously until your knees hit the tile. You latched onto his hip and were nearly poked by his hard dick. You eyed his throbbing tip and the thick vein along his length. He was huge. You winced as your core ached and the tenderness between your thighs assured you of his size.

His hand stretched across the back of your head and he urged you closer. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth. The humiliation filled your chest as his dick filled your mouth. He pushed himself past your throat and you choked as you struggled to breath. He hummed and impaled you to his base, your slobber gathering against his pelvis.

He eased out and you breathed through your nostrils. He quickly thrust back in and you gagged, slapping his thick thighs as the water splashed noisily against his body and flowed down over you. He grunted as he moved you against him, soon both his hands held your head as he fucked your face.

“I thought you were a good girl,” he rasped, “Hmm? Always got the answer, don’t you? Always first to arrive…” He groaned as he rutted against you, “Look at you now, you little slut.”

Your eyes rolled back and burned with unbidden tears. You were glad for the stream of water as it hid your distress. The noise of him in your mouth made your stomach turn and you struggled to keep down another mouthful of bile. You gagged and whimpered around him. He tensed and stopped you suddenly, buried deep in your throat.

“Fuck,” he slid out of you slowly and his cock bobbed up as a string of spit hung from your lips and you panted raggedly. “I should cum in your mouth…” He tugged on your arm, “But I just love that ass.”

You stood, unsteadily, and staggered as he spun you to face the wall. He lifted your hands to rest on the wall and angled you as he pulled your hips back. You shook your head and tried to pull away. His nails dug into your flesh and he growled. You stilled and he reached to feel along your fold, shoving two fingers into you without warning. You were wet and you could both feel it.

“That’s a precious little act you got but this,” he pushed his fingers in and out, “Is giving it all away, sweetie.”

“Please,” you sniffed as you curled your fingers against the cold marble.

“You were begging for it last night.” He sneered as he parted his fingers and stretched you. “Oh, professor,” he mocked, “Fuck me. Fuck me, professor.”

He withdrew his fingers and stepped closer. He pressed his tip along your ass and angled it to your entrance. He gripped your shoulder with his other hand and you whined as he stretched you around his head. You strained against him as he sank into you and let out a yelp as he met his limit. He sighed and tilted his hips.

“Ow,” you groaned, “Ow, please, it hurts.”

“You fit me perfectly, sweetie,” he hissed as he rocked his hips, “Tell me, how many?”

“Wha--” Your voice evaporated and you dropped your head as you tried not to whine.

“How many boys?” His flesh slapped yours over and over, though his pace remained deliberate and slow.

You shook your head as your arms shook and you struggled to keep yourself upright. You bit your lip as your core burned and your walls hugged him.

“How many?” He barked and slapped your ass so that your legs wobbled and your arms bent so that your cheek met the marble.

“One. Just one,” you confessed and let out a pathetic moan.

“One?” He laughed and his grip tightened on your shoulder as his other hand held your hip in place. “I gotta break you in, then.”

He bent over you and dragged his lips along your shoulder. He nuzzled your neck and sank his teeth into the muscle just along your shoulder. You exclaimed and slapped the wall as he crushed you against it. He had you nearly off your feet as he sped up. He sucked on your flesh as you wheezed in pain and didn’t stop until you were swollen and sore.

He grabbed your hands and pulled them up above you, pinning them to the wall as he fucked you harder and harder. You were trapped as he used your body easily and sent waves of pain and pleasure through you. You came but it was so agonizing that you could only gurgle and tremble.

He snarled and pulled your arms back behind you, your back arching as he hooked his own arms through yours. He slammed into you, again and again. The water blinded you and blurred your vision as it filled your mouth and washed away his salty flavour. He grunted and spasmed, a growl as he finished inside of you.

He stilled you and rolled his hips. You winced and he shoved you off of him suddenly. He sniffed and measured his breaths as you caught yourself on the wall. You shakily wiped away the water from your face and listened as he moved around behind you. You heard the click of a bottle top and smelled the fresh scent of pine and sandalwood as it wafted in the steam.

“So much for cleaning up,” He snickered as his cum leaked out of you. “You dirty girl.”

📚

When you returned to your dorm, you were numb and entranced by disbelief. You climbed the stairs without counting the floors but somehow found your way to your section. Your roommates were still asleep after their own escapades and you were glad as you stood and waited for your coffee to trickle from the machine.

You wore the same pink dress, it smelled of Ransom, and your jacket was zipped only halfway as your purse hung from your elbow. You took your mug without adding sugar or cream and hid in your room. You sat gingerly at your desk and inhaled the aroma of steamed beans.

Your phone vibrated in your purse and you placed the bag on your desk beside the mug. It buzzed again and you ignored it. You stared at the wall. You didn’t know what to do. You winced as you turned in the chair. You had to get out of these clothes.

You stood and unzipped your jacket. You hung it from the back of the door and tore the dress down your body, the straps refusing to stay up. You shoved it into the bin beneath your desk and shivered as you grabbed the nightshirt wrinkled up on your pillow. You pulled on the cotton tee and groaned as your thighs rubbed together.

Your bag began to shake steadily. You snatched it up and unclasped it to pull out your phone. It was Lexi. You answered it with a short ‘hey’ and scrolled through the messages she’d been sending you all morning.

“Finally! I was so worried.” She said frantically. “We didn’t know what happened to you! I don’t even remember--”

“I’m fine,” you lied and sat on your mattress, “I must’ve taken a cab back.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said curtly, “Is everyone else… okay?”

“Aside from hung over, yeah.” she answered.

“Good.” You replied flatly and hung up. 

You dropped your phone and crossed your arms. _How could you be so stupid? How could you have gotten so drunk?_

You lifted your legs up onto the mattress and spread out on the narrow single bed. You only stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Every time you shut your eyes, you saw Ransom. The shower hadn’t been the end; he hadn’t even let you dress before he was on again. You wondered how he could go again so soon but there was little you could do to stop him.

He drove you home, his hand on your thigh. You caught his grins in the mirror and tried to ignore him. Before he let you out, he took your phone and keyed in his number. He waggled it before you but wouldn’t let you have it.

“If I call, you answer,” he warned. “I mean it, sweetie. Or I might just be forced to do something drastic.”

You blinked at him dumbly and nodded. He dropped it in your lap.

“All those cute photos of you, they’re all for me… right?” You didn’t miss the subtle threat. If you didn’t do as he said, those photos wouldn’t stay private. He showed you a few before you left the house, recalling how easy you were. 

You nodded. “Got it.”

The memory had you addled and you sat up. You took your phone to your desk and put a pillow on the chair before you sat. You were incredibly sore. You opened your laptop and grabbed a syllabus as you looked up your weekly meetings. You had to think of anything else.

You spent a few hours reading. It wasn’t easy. You found yourself going over the same paragraphs over and over and your notes made little sense as you reviewed them. You were growing frustrated as you finally gave up.

Your phone vibed and you checked the time. Hours had passed since your return, though it barely felt like it. ‘Daddy’ flashed across the screen as the cell continued to jitter on your desk. You shook your head; _had he really done that?_ Your impression of Ransom as a refined professor was steadily falling away.

You picked up and put him on speaker, you didn’t have the strength to hold your phone. You hunched over as you spoke into the end. “Hello?”

“Sweetie,” Ransom’s voice rose, “Hope you’re resting up. Get lots of protein for that hangover.”

“Uh huh,” you muttered vacantly. _What did he want?_

“I just wanted to go over some things…” he said. You could hear water in the background, bubbling as he sighed. “Can you hear me, sweetie? Sorry, the hot tub’s a bit loud but I got a few tight muscles… late night, you now?”

He chuckled and you shuddered. 

“I can hear you,” you said quietly.

“Great. Now, Tuesday, I want you in the front row.” He purred, “Wear something short and don’t bother with the panties.” The water stirred through the speaker, “Or, how about this… you can wear panties but I want them handed in at the end of the lesson.”

You were quiet. This couldn’t be happening.

“Sweetie… answer me.”

“Okay.” You uttered. “Okay.”

“Yes, Daddy,” he recited, “That’s what you say when I give you an order. Got it?”

You cleared your throat. “Yes, Daddy,” you eked out and your stomach flipped.

“Well, you sound tired,” he said, “So why don’t you have a nap? Make the most of your weekend, it’s gonna be a long week.”

“Okay…” you murmured again, “Okay, uh, Daddy?”

He laughed again. “Fuck, you got me hard again. You shoulda stayed a little longer.” He taunted. “Ah well, I’ll save it for Tuesday…” He inhaled dramatically, “When you hand in… your assignment, we should discuss it further, yes?”

“Yes,” you paused and the silence was a warning in itself. “Daddy.” You hated it so much, it was bitter on your tongue, but you needed him to leave you alone.

“Good girl,” he praised and the line died.

You frowned and turned over your phone. You covered your face and resisted the urge to scream. You weren’t drinking ever again, although it was a bit too late for that lesson.

📚

The days dragged by. Sunday, you didn’t do much and you remained on edge as you awaited another torturous phone call. It never came and left you even more anxious. Monday returned a sense of normalcy to you. You went to class and had lunch on campus before you returned to your dorm. Still, no phone call and you even hoped that Ransom was having second thoughts.

Then Tuesday struck you like a slap in the face and the one class that separated you from your predatory professor flew by. You packed up and shivered as you shrugged on your jacket. You’d borrowed a skirt from your roommate Lindsay and a pair of stockings to cover your legs. Still, the late autumn air rushed up and sent a chill up your spine.

You hurried from one building to the next. You had ten minutes between blocks and so little time to prepare yourself. As you entered, Ransom stood at the front of the class as he always did. He wore a blue sweater as he read over his notes and didn’t seem to notice as you entered. You neared the front row and lingered at the aisle. He looked up and his cheek twitched as he saw you. He shook his head and looked to the centre seat.

You hid your disappointment and sat front and centre. You pulled your arms out of your jacket and let it hang open around your shoulders. You unpacked your notebook and two pens and tapped your foot impatiently. 

Your attention was drawn by tapping at the podium. Ransom tapped his index and middle finger on the wood. He looked up and met your gaze as he spread his fingers.

You rubbed your neck, a turtleneck hiding the mark he’d left on you. You shifted and parted your legs. His eyes flicked down between them and he quickly hid his smirk as he opened his Mac on the podium.

“Hey,” Cece dropped beside you, “You do the reading?” She was out of breath as she jostled around with her bag.

“Uh, yeah,” you watched her. “You?”

“I got the Coles notes,” she trilled, “Honesty, I’m still recovering from Friday.”

“Huh, yeah,” you fiddled with your pen. “What a night.”

“Oh my god, Lexi, she slept in the shower and I woke up on the floor,” she giggled, “What happened to you anyway?”

You shrugged. “Caught a cab and woke up at home.” 

You glanced at Ransom and Cece followed your eyeline. She squinted at your professor but her mind quickly drifted.

“Anyway, we’re going again this weekend--”

“No, thank you,” you said shortly, “I-- I can’t. I have assignments due next week.”

“Fine, party pooper,” she snipped, “Lexi did say you were a browner.”

“Did she?” You rolled your eyes. “You don’t seem to mind as you copy off my notes.”

“I’m just teasing,” she huffed, “How can you sit all the way up here?”

“I’m a browner,” you said dryly.

“Well, whatever, Josh is here.” She looked over her shoulder, “Maybe he’ll come out with us.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled and she left you as quickly as she’d come.

You looked at the front again and found Ransom watching you again. His jaw was squared and his forehead lightly lined in thought. He tore his eyes away and gripped the edge of the podium as he peered around the room.

“Alright, everyone, let’s quiet down and get started,” he boomed, “Next on our journey through the twentieth century, we move onto Salinger. If you want to sign into the campus portal, you’ll have ten minutes to do the pop quiz before we go over the results. Together.”

You sighed and dug around for your phone. The rest of the class grumbled and many dreaded the ten minutes as most of them hadn’t bothered to read the novel, like Cece. You could barely recall it yourself as you found it hard to concentrate on anything before your disastrous weekend.

As you signed into the course, a bubble popped up at the top of your phone. Ransom’s message made you cringe. ‘Cute skirt.’ You crossed your legs without thinking and another notification buzzed. ‘Don’t be shy.’

You peeked over at Ransom but he kept his eyes on his computer. You slowly pulled your legs apart and an eggplant emoji blipped up. You hid your discomfort and opened the pop quiz. If your focus wasn’t shattered before, it had flown entirely out the window.


	3. All Nighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness; name calling;
> 
> This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
> 
> Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader
> 
> Summary: Your academic worries are compounded by your personal dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, yeah. I caved and we get a third part.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
> 
> Please leave some feedback <3

Halfway through the lesson, you excused yourself. As Ransom waited at the front and students scoured over an excerpt of Catcher in the Rye, he sent you another jarring message. It was time. 

You stood carefully, the skirt offering little coverage and knowing you were about to be even more exposed. You ducked down as you walked along the front row and disappeared through the door.

You went to the restroom and locked yourself in a stall. Your phone vibed again, still clutched tightly in your hand. ‘Show me.’ He demanded and even in font, the words made you shudder.

You sighed and held your phone out at an angle with one hand as you opened the camera. You directed the lense to your skirt and tugged it up until your purple panties were exposed. You shimmied as you slid them down on either side with your fingers and let them fall past the top of your stockings. You ended the recording and hit send before collecting your crumpled underwear.

You folded them and shoved them up your sleeve and locked your phone. You returned to the class, unnoticed, and sat in your seat with your head down. You bent back the cover of the book and tried to focus on the passage. You could hear Ransom as he rocked in the old office chair.

You peeked up at him as he held his phone up. His face was blank as he watched the screen. His finger tapped the phone and he nodded. He lowered his cell and his eye caught yours before you could shy away. He winked and cleared his throat.

“Alright, everyone, let’s start with a brief summary. Who wants to begin?” He stood and approached the podium again. “Go ahead.”

You blinked and realised he was pointing at you. You let out a prolonged uh and shuffled your book dumbly.

“Um, in this chapter, uh, Holden tells us about his neighbour, Jane, and um,” you squirmed a Ransom stared at you and you felt the attention of every other student in the lecture hall, “As the chapter progresses we learn that Holden has shared with her things, like Allie’s baseball glove, that he hasn’t with anyone else and in turn, eh, erm, Jane’s character disassembles and both Holden and the reader wonder after her alcoholic stepfather and even if he has… a-abused her. Holden prefers to think of her, however, as innocent, and accepts a not very convincing denial. Really, he hears what he wants to and goes on without a single--” You stopped as you began to ramble. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Ransom appeared amused and leaned on the podium. “Okay. Any other interpretations?”

He looked around and you deflated in your chair. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be talking about Jane and her vile stepfather, and you didn’t want your professor to keep looking between your legs. But just like Holden, Ransom couldn’t see anything but his own male ego. Anyone else was just a stepping stone in his grand American narrative.

🖊️

When class ended, you were as eager as any other to be gone. The two-hour block at seven in the evening was hardly anyone’s ideal, even if it was a weeknight. You slid your notebook away and the used edition of Salinger. You dropped the pens into the side pocket of your worn messenger bag and stood to watch your peers flood out of the classroom.

You wanted badly to be on your way and for an instant, you had a glimmer of hope that you might. But then you heard the deep breath and your name was called from behind you. 

“Just a minute,” he said with all pretense of deceiving any stragglers, “You seem to be missing a page from your assignment.”

You turned slowly and left your bag in the seat. You neared him and your nostrils flared as your gaze met his. It wasn’t even your paper he held. You swallowed back your reticence and pretended to look at the essay. 

“Oh, sorry.” You said as he peered over your shoulder.

“Go on,” he lowered his voice as the upper doors finally closed with a heavy clank. 

You cringed and reached up your sleeve and pulled out your panties. You let them fall onto the folder and he poked his fingers through the fabric and stretched them out. He hummed and rubbed the cotton between his fingers.

“You got anything sexier?” He snatched them up and shoved them in his pocket. “I thought you college girls were funner than that.”

You glared at him and crossed your eyes. “Right, is that everything?”

“Don’t,” he warned, “Sweetie, I don’t like that tone.” 

You huffed and rolled your eyes. He shuffled away his papers as you retreated to grab your own bag. You headed for the door as you unfolded your jacket from over your arm.

“Where are you going? I didn’t dismiss you.” He called from behind you. You turned back and stared at him.

“I have class in the morning.” You said.

“And?” He scoffed. “It’s only nine.”

You were quiet as he approached you. You wanted so badly to scream and hit him. He was a frat boy with tenure. He was as slimy and shady as every guy on campus and you had been deluded enough to think that age and title would change a spoiled brat with a silver spoon still lodged firmly in his mouth. Oh, the naive romanticism of a sophomore.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

He snickered and kept on as you backed away from him. He had you against the door as he slapped his hand above your shoulders and loomed over you. He leaned in as his other hand played with the bottom of your shirt.

“Because I can.” He purred, “And because I love the look in your eyes as I’m balls deep.”

“Ew,” you slapped his chest but he didn’t flinch. He merely grabbed your arm and spun you around as he pushed the door open behind you.

“Good thing you took those panties off,” he sneered, “You won’t be needing them.”

🖊️

You spent the car ride hunched against the passenger door, wishing you were anywhere else. Ransom let the radio fill the silence as he barely seemed to recall your presence. He steered with one hand, unbothered by the tension between you. As he pulled up to his house, its tall glass windows and geometric structure thrust you into a whirlwind of deja vu.

He killed the engine and rounded as you remained in your seat. You were too numb to do anything but sit there and stare at the house. You remembered patches of that night; stumbling up the walk, Ransom carrying you up stairs, his body against yours, the disorienting pain of his intrusion.

The door opened and you nearly fell out of the car. The seatbelt kept you from your descent and you unbuckled it as Ransom grabbed your arm and dragged you out into the crisp autumn evening. Your boots tapped melodically as he led you up the paved walk and you found it hard to think straight.

“Wait, wait,” you stopped as you reached the threshold, “No, Ransom, Professor… this is… wrong. You can’t--”

“For such a quiet little bitch you sure don’t shut the fuck up,” he snarled as he unlocked the door, one hand still on your arm. Your blood froze as you thought of your bag on the floor of the car, your phone buried in the side pocket. “Come on.”

“No, please,” you wriggled in his grasp, “You can’t keep doing this to me. I’ll… I’ll tell.”

“Not if I tell first,” he said coolly and bent to sling you over his shoulder. “Now let’s give you something to tell about.”

He pushed through the door and slapped your ass as he carried you inside. You kicked and writhed over his shoulder as he strode into the front room. The lights shone as they were triggered by some unseen sensor. 

He carried you to the modern sofa with its flat cushions and low back, and dropped you onto it gruffly. You bounced and bit your tongue painfully.

“Don’t make me tear those clothes off or you won’t have anything to wear in the morning,” he warned as he kicked off his leather boots and paced along the broad windows that formed the front wall of the room. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a rack in the corner and turned back to you. “Well…”

You bent to unzip your boots and shoved them aside. You heard a clink and looked over your shoulder. Ransom stood behind the small bar along the far wall and plunked a glass on top.

“Seem to loosen up with a few drinks in you,” he pulled out another tumblr and a bottle of dark whiskey. “This stuffs a lot better than that toilet water they serve in the club.”

You ignored him and stood to remove your jacket. You realised that there was no way out. You kept trying to convince yourself there was but that only made it worse. You hung your coat beside his as he watched you closely and gave a measured pour.

“Here,” he slid a glass across the bar. “Drink up, sweetie.”

“I’m not thirsty,” you ignored him and walked nervously back to the sofa. _Was it better to have it done with?_

“I don’t care what you want now get over here and drink,” he growled. “Or I’ll force it down that pretty little throat myself.”

You blanched and slowly crossed to the bar. You took the short glass and raised it, the alcohol made your nose tingle. He watched you as he drained his own tumbler. You tossed it back in three stinging gulps and coughed as you set the glass back on the bar. He chuckled and poured again, but didn’t add any to his empty glass.

“Again.” He ordered.

“Please, I can’t--” You waved your hand as you touched your raw throat. He stared at you and his jaw twitched. You pouted and lifted the glass again. You drank with tears in your eyes and gasped as you swigged it down. “There.” You choked as you planted the tumblr on the bar top. 

He reached over as if to pour some more and grinned as he hovered the bottle over your glass. He laughed and lowered it down onto its base instead. “Good girl.” He came out from behind the bar and neared you, drawing you away with him. “But you’re not naked yet.”

He thrust you ahead of him and you stumbled to the sofa. Your wits were buzzing from the whiskey and your empty stomach rolled. You hadn’t eaten since the early afternoon, right before your second lecture. You were wholly unprepared for the alcohol and the man before you.

You reached and tugged at the bottom of your turtleneck. You pulled it up and freed your head from it with a grunt. You dropped it onto the sofa and Ransom touched your shoulder where he’d bit you days before. It was still tender and made you wince. You unbuttoned your skirt and pushed the zipper down. It fell to your ankles without much effort.

Ransom’s hands went to your chest and he fondled your tits through your plain bra. He reached around you and unhooked it easily, yanking it down your arms and flinging it away. His fingers danced along your side and you hooked your thumb under the top of your stockings.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, “Keep those on.”

You retracted your hand and he gripped your shoulders. He pushed until you sat on the sofa and he backed away slightly. His tongue poked out as he took you in and he grinned. He pulled his knit sweater over his head and threw it on the floor. He made quick work of his undershirt and revealed his muscled torso. You squeezed your legs together and stared at your knees.

“We both know those college boys are nothing compared to me, sweetie,” he teased as you heard the buckle of his belt. “It’s okay, you can have a peek.”

You didn’t say anything as you listened to him strip. When he neared, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. He grabbed your chin and forced your head up. His other hand moved below your vision as he stroked himself. 

“Get up,” he demanded and you stood with a sway. The whiskey stormed inside of you.

His hand fell to your arm and he dragged you away from the sofa. He directed you towards the tall windows and you shivered as you got closer. He stopped you before the glass and brought your hands up and planted them against the window. You felt the chill through it as he grasped your hips and drew your feet back. You stared out onto the drive, the street barely visible just beyond the curve, although you could see the lights of the neighbour’s house.

“What--”

“Shhh,” he tickled your spine and groped your ass roughly. “Stay just like that, sweetie.”

He slipped his hand down and kicked your feet apart. He felt along your folds and you shivered as his warmth contrasted against the cold seeping through the glass. Bumps rose along your skin as he poked around your entrance.

“Wet, already.” He tisked, “I thought you were a good girl.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes as he reached to your clit and rubbed it with two fingers. You gasped as he teased you and drew back to shove a finger inside you. He grabbed your shoulder as your back arched and stepped closer. He pulled his hand away and prodded you with his tip again.

“Professor…” You hissed.

His hand went to the back of your neck and he pushed your face against the glass as he slowly forced his tip inside of you. You groaned and turned so that your cheek rested against the cool window and he impaled you entirely. You slapped the glass and your fingers curled as he filled you.

“Ah,” you whined and he bucked so that your whole body quaked.

“Still so fucking tight,” he rocked against you as his thick breaths surrounded you. “You had me hard all night, sweetie. I could barely fucking stand straight.”

He tilted his hips into you as you were on tiptoes and your legs began to tremble beneath you. You clung to the glass, afraid you might collapse. He nuzzled your head and growled as sped up. You moaned without thinking as your walls clenched around him.

“That’s it,” he hummed and dropped his hand from your neck, trailing both along your chest and stomach. He hunched over you as he felt around the back of your thighs and panted into your hair. “You can play coy all you want but your cunt says it all.”

His hands stretched across your thighs and you exclaimed as he suddenly scooped you up. He bent your legs to your chest as he lifted you and your fingertips slid along the glass. He hooked his arms under your knees and opened you up as he hammered into you from below. 

He stepped closer to the window and you braced yourself against it as your reflection stared back at you. The inky dark was clouded by the glare of the light inside and revealed to you your shame. Your eyes drifted down and you saw how easily he slid in and out of you.

Your legs tensed around his arms and your breath hitched. You shut your eyes as your mouth fell open and felt your core bloom. You were close, so close, and you needed to cum. You didn’t care that it was him or that it was here; you had to.

You kept one hand on the window and snaked your other down to your cunt. You flicked circles around your clit as the sound of your flesh mingled with his. He crashed into you harder and harder and snarled into your neck.

“You fucking slut,” he rasped, “You touching yourself? Huh? You fucking like it.” He pulled your legs further apart until your hips rang with pain. “Bad girl.”

You spasmed and came with a squeak. You felt yourself dripping down his cock as the warmth leaked from you. You smacked your slick hand against the window again and bit down on your lip as he rutted into you with gristly grunts.

“Say it. You’re a bad girl.” He puffed.

“Wha--”

“Say it,” he slammed into you hard.

“I’m-- I’m a… bad… girl,” you choked out. “Oh, oh, I’m bad.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said frantically and stilled you. He sniffed and held you on him. “Get…” His voice trailed off and he lifted you from him.

He lowered you swiftly and your legs wobbled dangerously beneath you. He grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to your knees. He brought you close as he stroked himself desperately.

“I’m gonna cum on your tits, sweetie,” he moaned, “I’m gonna--”

He grunted and strings of cum erupted from him as he angled his dick over you. His cum spurted over your chest and shoulders, even along your chin and cheek as his body shook and his fingers sank into your neck. He twitched as he slowed his hand and sighed as he let his cock bob freely before him.

“Mmm,” he let go of you and looked down at you with a smirk, “You look amazing covered in me.” 

He ran his hands over his chest and exhaled. You tried to stand and he caught your shoulder. “Crawl.” He ordered. “Get on the sofa and wait for me, sweetie.” He ran his finger through the cum along your cheek, “I won’t be long.”

🖊️

You woke in a fog. Your thighs, your hips, your cunt all ached. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at the pristine white ceiling. You were sprawled flat on the stiff sofa, alone. Your mouth was dry and your tongue tasted of flesh and alcohol. You groaned and sat up as your head reverberated. The sky outside was a dull grey and the clock above the door read just before seven. Fuck.

Your name floated in from the doorway at the other end of the room. You hung your head and stood. You took the throw draped over the back of the chair beside the couch and covered yourself. You neared the arch and peeked inside. Ransom poured a cup of coffee from a French press.

“You’re gonna be late if you don’t get your ass in gear,” he said smugly as he pushed the mug across the island.

You grumbled and crossed to the marble counter. You climbed up onto a tall stool and winced at the tenderness between your legs. The coffee smelled delicious as your stomach churned.

“Don’t worry, you can ride with me,” he taunted. “What time you done today?”

You frowned and took a boiling sip, barely noticing how the coffee seared your tongue. “Four… why?”

“Hmm, that’ll be a long day,” he said. “But not… too long.”

His cryptic words made you scowl and he left you without explanation. He returned with a pink box and his phone. He placed both on the counter. You watched him, confused, and he eased the lid off the box. Inside, was a silicon plug in hot pink. You shook your head.

“No.” You said firmly.

“It’s for your cunt, calm down,” he said.

“No,” you repeated and cradled your mug. “Ransom…”

“Professor. I think I prefer ‘professor’. It’s… proper.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. He flicked his finger over his phone and it unlocked. He tapped and you leaned on your elbow. He pressed his finger against the centre of the circle that appeared and the box began to buzz as the plug vibrated. He dragged his finger around the circle and the toy intensified. You blinked.

“We’ll save that fun for class tomorrow night,” he licked his lip, “For now, you just need to… adjust.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on. You take me well enough.” He slithered. “Gotta have you ready… I have a break just after five. I expect you can hit pause on your studying for a visit.”

You were stunned. You set the cup down and rubbed your cheeks as you tried to process it all.

“You’re disgusting.” You sneered.

“Oh,” he closed the app and searched through his phone. He turned it to you and hit place, “So are you, sweetie.”

You squinted as you saw yourself against the glass, your tits bouncing as Ransom fucked you from behind, his own face hidden by the angle of the security camera. You swallowed and your hands went to your neck as your skin burned with humiliation.

“You…” you were speechless and tore your eyes way from his phone.

“I have a lot more than that,” he assured you as he spun the phone back to him and watched the footage with a leer, “Hurry up.” He locked the screen. “Or I’ll make sure we’re both late.”


End file.
